


Sloppy

by antennapedia



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Dom!Clara, F/M, Post-Coital, well-fucked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 04:10:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6358786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antennapedia/pseuds/antennapedia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor is a boneless well-fucked mess. (Minor references to fisting, not depicted in detail.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sloppy

Clara pulled on a t-shirt chosen randomly from a drawer, whatever was on top. It advertised a Internet site she'd long since stopped caring about.

The Doctor was sprawled out on his bed, face down, limbs starfished out. He was messy and his arse was still wet with lube from where she'd had her hand in him, her actual entire gloved hand, which was still a mind-bending thought. And an arousing thought, though she'd come twice already. He'd come as well, and now he was lying on sheets that would be sticky with it, and he didn't seem to care in the least.

"Mmmm," he said. "Where'd you go?"

"Had to wash up." Though she wasn't sure why she'd bothered, because he was a mess. A relaxed, boneless, sticky mess. This was what he was like after he came that hard, apparently, came with her fucking him more deeply than they'd ever done it before. He was useless, but it was adorable. And intolerable. "Be right back."

"'Kay," he said, with his face in the pillows.

Clara came back with a towel and a wet washcloth.

"There you are," the Doctor said, and he smiled up at her lazily. A dopey Time Lord, patiently allowing her to wash him off without apparently feeling the least need to help in any way, while he hummed to himself.

"Ugh, these sheets," Clara said.

"The TARDIS will clean them," he said. "Why we do it here instead of in your flat."

Clara tugged the top sheet out from under him, and her alien lover helped her by rolling aside, which was a miracle. Then he reached up and snagged her hand and showed a surprising amount of strength when pulling her down next to him.

"Stop fussing," he said. "Let me hold you." He draped himself over her and mashed his face into her breasts and started humming again. The Beatles. He was on a Beatles kick, and sappy McCartney love songs were high on his list. Got to get you into my life, yeah okay. It was all very flattering, really. Clara ran her fingers through his sweat-wet hair and smiled down at him. Idiot. Lovable idiot.


End file.
